Hot erotic man on man stories

Bump and Grind

Go-Go Boys of Club 21 #1

Liam loves the life of being a go-go boy—dancing, partying, constant adoration from hot clients. The only thing he has to worry about is if he’s using the right moves as he grinds to the beat to win the affection of the highest tippers.

But tonight, there’s a new patron at Club 21—Ryan, a dream hunk and former porn celebrity—and he’s got eyes for Liam, and Liam alone. A private dance is a no-touch affair, but when Ryan rents Liam for half an hour all for himself, the experience forever changes how Liam sees his life in the club.

We’re the go-go boys of Club 21. We dance, we fuel fantasies, and we give ourselves to the beat. We bump, we grind, and before each shift we have a jerk off competition; the order in which we come determines who gets the most desirable dance platform.

Normally, I shoot first, earning me the prime spot by the DJ. Ken usually comes shortly after me; he claims I get him excited. Lance, our new guy, he’s always last and ends up with the crappy spot by the pool tables.

Today, I decided to try something different—a strategy, if you will—to teach Lance an important lesson about being a go-go boy. I yanked down the front of my shorts and let my cock hang out, then grabbed it in my fist, stroking up and down the shaft. In front of me, Liam and Ken stood with their shorts tucked under their balls as they pumped with vigor.

I held back, loosening my grip just a bit, but still keeping it tight enough to stay hard and throbbing. I grunted and faked an impending climax, hoping it would give the other guys incentive to rush to completion.

The faking worked. Ken groaned and numerous rockets of hot, white cum launched from his cock. His load splattered on the tiled floor, like some abstract painter’s creation, a wad of it dropping on my toes.

“Sorry, Liam,” Ken said as he came down from that high of orgasm. I doubted Ken was actually sorry—he was definitely the bad boy of our trio. He drank, partied, and had a high-octane sex drive.

I looked at the cum on my feet and then winked at him. “Ken, you sick fucker. You can lick it off.”

He stuck his tongue out at me, then crossed his arms and watched Lance and I battle to the finish. I kept stroking, making my effort look convincing. Lance fixed me with his usual cocky stare. Lust glazed his eyes too, no doubt fuelled by the actions of his fist.

“Uhhh...” Lance groaned as his cock fired off a dozen good bullets of cum, showering across the diamond-tile floor. Fuck, he could shoot a mean load.

Lance had joined us three weeks ago and I didn’t know too much about him. He was a quiet jock, a much better fit than Aaron, the airhead twink who he’d replaced. Having a jock in our small group was good for bringing in more customers. Ken and I were well-toned and we all had boyish charm—it was part of the job, after all—but Lance’s body was hard and toned, and packed with an impressive array of muscle. And boy, could he dance.

Ken snorted. “Whatever.” He swiped a bead of cum from his dick and licked it off, then tugged up his shorts and headed to the staff bathroom to grab paper towels.

Lance and I pulled up our shorts too. I smiled at him, trying to give my best look of sheepish defeat.

“That was on purpose, wasn’t it?” He asked.

I leaned in close to him. “Yeah. Now, why do you think I did it?”

“Hmm...are you trying to teach me another one of your go-go boy secrets?”

I grabbed my thick bulge and gave it a shake for him. “See this?”

Lance looked down at my basket and bit his lip, then reached in his shorts and adjusted himself. “Mmm. I get it. Don’t come so you’ve got a bigger bulge.”

“The bigger the bulge, the bigger the tips, no matter where you dance. I’ll prove it to you. I plan to make a killing tonight. Tomorrow, you can try and do the same. I bet you’ll make more than your usual thirty-seven bucks.”

Ken came back with the paper towels and started wiping up the cum. He paused and looked up at us. I think he knew we had cut off a conversation upon his return. “Boys?”

I looked at Lance—he would keep a straight face if I lied. “We’re talking about bulges,” I said.

A wicked grin crossed Ken’s lips as he wiped more cum up from the floor, then from my foot. “Bulges are one of my favorite things to talk about.” He tossed the paper towels in the wastebasket. “Are we talking about a particular bulge?”